


i will not watch the ocean

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Series: Quite Like That [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Asexual Character, M/M, Pre-Season/Series 03, background Silverflint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:44:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: Flint hasn’t touched him in months. Not since Mrs. Barlow came aboard. But, more significantly, not since John’s misfortune at the hands of Vane’s quartermaster. Not since he became less than a man.





	i will not watch the ocean

Flint hasn’t touched him in months. Not since Mrs. Barlow came aboard. But, more significantly, not since John’s misfortune at the hands of Vane’s quartermaster. Not since he became less than a man. Not that it surprises John, it just--John has a place on the table closer than Flint than ever before, and one would think that would give them more liberty to sneak in a quick one here and there, but Flint keeps ignoring him, brushing him off, pretending he doesn’t fucking exist. And John knew that Flint had never thought much of John, not much more than a quick fuck when needed, but now that John is his fucking quartermaster--and doing a rather good job at it, if he does say so himself… Well. Even if Flint doesn’t want to fuck a cripple, John would think he’d at least respect John’s new position of quartermaster.

And it’s not like John really needs or wants to fuck the captain. No, that’s what Flint had wanted and John happily complied. What John wanted was Flint himself. And as soon as it was clear that wasn’t ever going to be an option, he’d adapted. Like he always did.

So with Flint acting like John was just an annoying fly who’s opinion he had to listen to sometimes, John decided to look elsewhere for someone to fill his need. He doesn’t know where to start at first. Flint keeps distracting his attention because no one was as beautiful, as dangerous, as familiar as Flint, but John keeps trying.

“He still treating you like shit?”

John looks up from where he’s watching Flint disappear into his cabin after yet another raid to see Muldoon approaching with a grim smile. Muldoon thrusts the bottle of rum at John and leans against the handrail next to him. John takes the bottle and takes a long drink, glancing at Flint’s closed door.

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” he murmurs, handing the rum back to Muldoon. Muldoon scoffs.

“C’mon. You two always hated each other, but you were attached at the hip until Charlestown. Now the only reason he pays you any attention is because you’re the quartermaster.”

John finally turns his gaze on Muldoon with a raised eyebrow. Muldoon lets out a little “heh” and takes a drink before returning the look.

“I mean, you didn’t always hate him, I think you wanted to, but-- And he’s just a prick-- And I should stop talking now.” Muldoon takes another drink, looking nervous.

“Is it really that obvious?” John asks, heart thudding in his throat.

Muldoon looks up, eyes wide. “What? That you’re--” He pauses, looking around to see no one’s paying them any attention, then says quietly, “That you’re in love with him?”

John bristles at that. “I am not.”

Muldoon shrugs. “Okay.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes as they pass the bottle of rum back and forth. John tries (and fails) to not look at the closed door of the captain’s cabin again. With difficulty, he looks away and over to Muldoon. Muldoon has most of his weight resting on the handrail, a pleasant smile on his lips, eyes closed, and face turned upwards like he’s trying to catch the sunlight even though it’s well past midnight. Maybe he’s trying to catch moonbeams. After a moment, Muldoon cracks an eye open to smirk at John, as if he’d felt the gaze. He goes to take another drink from the bottle only to drop it with a pout.

“All out.”

“Should we go get more?” John asks, voice quiet as the crew starts to settle in for the night. Muldoon’s smile shines bright.

“All right.”

Luckily Muldoon heads below deck right away so John doesn’t have to insist he go first. He hates leading the way--physically, anyway--now. Too often has a group of men gathered at one end of the stairs or the other as John struggles to climb them without his bad leg giving out. He’s getting better at stairs, slowly, but it’s still an ordeal.

Before they get to the storerooms, however, Muldoon stops. John comes to a halt behind him, confused and about to ask before Muldoon turns to him with a wry little smile.

“You could have anyone else, you know that, right?”

John frowns. “What--”

“I mean, maybe not anyone, but there are others…” Muldoon says, growing increasingly awkward. “I told you we’d take care of you.”

John winces.

“I know it’s not the same thing,” Muldoon says quickly, looking away. “But maybe it could be enough.”

“Muldoon…”

Muldoon turns, starting back towards the storerooms. “Let’s just pretend I never said anything, all right?”

John catches him by the elbow, forcing him to turn around and face him. “You’re acting like you’re offering yourself up like some sacrificial lamb.”

Muldoon blinks at that. “I’m not,” he says. “I… I want this.”

John stares at him for longer than he means to. “I’m not going to take advantage of you,” he says finally. Muldoon shakes his head.

“Then don’t. We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m just offering some benefits to that.”

“I don’t want to fuck.”

“That’s okay. We don’t need to.”

John lets go of Muldoon’s arm slowly, still staring at him. He can’t deny he’s enjoyed Muldoon’s friendship more often lately. And the possibility of that friendship developing into something more was not… unheard-of. John liked him. He was nice, he was fun, and he was fiercely protective. John hates the idea of being taken care of, coddled like a child, but if Muldoon was offering comfort… Comfort, John could handle. Comfort, John… craved.

Hesitantly, Muldoon steps closer to John, his eyes meeting John’s with a quiet determination. John almost steps back on instinct but manages to stop himself. Muldoon raises a hand, pushing John’s hair over his shoulder and then running a thumb along his jawline, moving easily through the beard John is still getting used to. Muldoon’s eyes follow the movement before resting on John’s lips. John fights down a shiver. No one’s ever looked at him quite like that.

They don’t go to the storerooms for more rum. Instead they retreat to a dark corner and fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

By the time Muldoon tells him what he’s heard--what he hopes--being taken by the sea is like, John has loved him for weeks.


End file.
